Page 4 of If You Stayed

I raised an eyebrow. “Like me?”

“You know…” She crossed her arms over her chest and shrugged her left shoulder. “Good.”

I pushed out another grin, though this one didn’t feel as great as the ones prior. “He loves his daughter.” Her frown deepened, yet before she could reply, I said, “I’ll see you next week.”

“Yeah, right. Okay. See you next week, Kierra.”

She left my office seemingly just as sad—if not sadder—than when she came in, which was hard for me to see. Yet I understood that breakthroughs looked different for everyone after a therapy session. Sometimes, people left in tears and feeling worse than when they came in. That was part of healing, though. Sometimes things seemed to be getting worse before they got better.

My mom always said resolving issues was like decluttering a house. You emptied all the closet spaces into the living room, making a big mess before organizing and clearing out the junk that was dragging you down. It was an important part of the process.

“Let go of what’s dragging you, baby girl. Then you can walk more freely,” Mom would always say when giving me advice.

It was solid advice that I revisited often.

Just as Claire had, I would remind myself of three good things that had kept me going over the past week:

Ava and I were going to eat a good amount of leftover birthday cake.

During lunchtime, I got free extra guacamole at my favorite Mexican restaurant.

We had officially moved into our new home a few months ago after buying a large plot of land, and the official build of our larger forever home was about to start there. We were currently living in an older house on the property until our home would be finished.

As I gathered my things to head home, there was a knock at my door. I looked up to see Joseph, one of the other therapists in our private practice, standing there. Joseph was the one who had opened Healing Waters Therapy Center.

Healing Waters used all different types of therapy to help our clients heal. Joseph’s specialty was music and water therapy, which seemed to be remarkably helpful to many individuals. He was a genius at his job, and over the years he’d become one of my closest friends. Joseph was the definition of positivity, always able to put a spin of light on any situation. Plus, he was remarkably educated and easily one of the most intelligent individuals I’d ever known. We’d celebratedhis sixtieth birthday at the office a few weeks ago, but with the way that man searched for adventure, one would’ve thought he was in his early twenties. Just last month he’d spent a week climbing a freaking mountain for fun. That was how I knew Joseph’s idea of fun was different than my own. A week of fun for me included binge watchingBelow Deckin pajamas with take-out food.

“Are you off to finish prepping for your dinner party?” he asked.

“I am. I wish you were coming. Henry’s friends and colleagues are boring,” I half-joked. The parties my husband hosted weren’t just mellow dinners. They were full-blown celebrations. I was pretty sure we’ve had dinner parties that were fancier than our own wedding a few years before. Fireworks and all. This one was even more exciting for Henry since it was the first gathering on our new land. Unfortunately, the parties always included Henry’s friends and colleagues and not my own. Our groups were like oil and water: we didn’t mix well. Where my friends were welcoming and inclusive, Henry’s friends were, well, not. My best friend, Rosie, called Henry’s dinner parties a pissing match for rich snobs to talk about who had the bigger yacht.

She wasn’t that far off.

If I had things my way, dinner parties would include aBelow Deckviewing party, in pajamas with Chinese food. Obviously. Toss inVanderpump Rules, and we’d be staying up past midnight.

Joseph grinned, knowing how much I dreaded the parties.“I would be there if I could. I’ll make the next dinner party when I’m back in town.”

I smiled. “Where are you off to this weekend?”

“Austin,” he said. “I’m seeing an old friend who just had a baby. But trust me, I’d rather be at one of Henry Hughes’s parties. Rumor has it, you have the best champagne.”

“Only the best for my husband,” I teased.

“That’s why he has you,” Joseph replied, nudging me in the arm before saying goodbye.

After he left, I took a few minutes to mentally prepare for the amount of socializing I would have to do that evening. Some people were gifted at entertaining big groups for hours while keeping their spirits high. Me, on the other hand? I always worked best one-on-one with individuals. It was one of the reasons I dived into my career. I loved to zoom in on individuals and learn how they ticked. With the big parties that Henry threw, there was a lot of drinking and many blunt personalities that I found hard to connect with on a deeper level.

I loved to go deep with people, yet those parties made that next to impossible. I found it hard to really get to know a person when there was so much chaos around. Still, I’d do what I did best: I’d pretend that I was happy and having a good time.

Otherwise, I’d end up arguing with Henry when the night came to an end. And by arguing, I meant he’d point out all the ways I was a flawed wife.

I was very careful about picking my martial battles.

Dinner parties were a battle I was willing to lose.

2

Kierra

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